Page 48 of Match Point

“She’s not coming back with us.” Leo retrieved the car keys from his pocket. He was more than ready to leave. Sorcha had made her choice and he had no other option than to let her. Tucker followed him out the door, the heavy thump of his cane a tell.

Leo cut to the left and stood before the elevator banks. He’d nearly forgotten Tucker’s limitations and cursed his own self-absorption. He wanted to ask if the guy was in pain but not come across as condescending. Tucker didn’t want his pity any more than Leo wanted pity from the people who learned about his years in foster care.

The doors opened and Leo entered the elevator after Tucker. He leaned against the back of the car, impatient for the doors to close. The sooner he got out of there, the better. He needed to get some fresh air, and perhaps go for a run. A very long run. “Sorcha is meeting somebody for drinks.”

“She met someone? Hmm, that’s unexpected.” Tucker said, scratching at his chin.

From what she’d said to him in passing, it was typical behavior for Sorcha. She’d been holed up at Grams with no social life. It was only natural that she wanted to get out. Unlike him, she was social by nature. He just prayed she didn’t go cage dancing again.

“Don’t believe what you’ve read, and don’t take everything she says to heart.” Tucker’s voice cut through his musings and he debated how honest he should be.

“She does have a habit of lying to me just to get under my skin,” he said, smiling despite his upset. She’d gotten under more than his skin, and it confused the shit out of him. “She is a contradiction and I, well, frankly I don’t get her sometimes.”

The doors slid open and Leo strode to the SUV that was parked near the elevator.

Tucker went around and opened the passenger side door, his limp pronounced. “You and me both. If I had all the answers to women, I’d be the smartest man alive.”

“Sorcha’s not just any woman.” Kat had been easygoing, dependable, and even-tempered. He should have stayed with Kat, but he had more than enough friends. And Howler, his closest friend, had guessed the truth about his growing feelings for Sorcha. Shit.

A red Maserati whipped around the corner of the garage, tires screeching. The smell of burnt rubber filled the enclosed space, making him cough.

“Jeez, do you think the guy’s overcompensating for something?” Tucker asked, one leg inside the SUV.

The driver braked for a brief second and Leo met the passenger’s eyes before the car sped past.

Sorcha.

“That’s Buck Miller’s car, and yes, he’s overcompensating for something.” The question was, what was Sorcha doing with him?

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Sorcha fiddled with the stem of her wine glass on the deck of the Pioneers’ yacht. A breeze blew off Lake Washington, but heat lamps placed along the deck kept the coolness at bay. She wished she could warm the internal chill of uncertainty that gripped her. Weighing her options, she debated the best way to bring up the subject of the non-disclosure agreement. She couldn’t just blurt it out for fear of putting him on the defensive. But she had to say something.

“This is a beautiful boat,” she said, inspecting the sleek lines of the deck.

“It’s not a boat, it’s a yacht, a custom made, state-of-the-art yacht. The only one like it in the world.” Miller sipped on a glass of scotch, his stare disconcerting.

This man was her father. The fact still held her in a chokehold. “So, the rumors that you sail around the world twice a year are true?”

“Yes, I get bored easily and like to port in exotic locales. And yes, the rumors that I have a mistress in every country in the world are also true. Except for the United States. She and I parted ways after she tried to pull a fast one and pawn off her kid as mine. I don’t like being conned. When you’re rich like me, they come out of the woodwork.”

“I understand.” Up until this moment, she was uncertain of what she hoped to get out of this interview. After an hour in his company, he’d killed every hope she’d had of a father-daughter relationship. Her blood boiled and she had to tamp down the urge to sneer in disgust. Leo had told her he was a dick and boy was he right. A rush of guilt swept through her. Leo had seen her leaving with Miller, and from the brief glimpse she’d gotten of his expression, he’d been appalled. Once this was over with, she’d be forced to explain it all, and Leo wasn’t going to like it.

“I believe in being upfront and honest. I’m looking for someone to take her place.” He flashed those overly white teeth and her stomach twisted in a tight knot. “I pay well, and my prestige would go a long way in elevating you,” he said.

“You pay well?” She couldn’t contain the bark of hysterical laughter at his barefaced statement. What an asshole. Every illusion she had about him was shattered. She now had a choice. Either get up and leave or give him a taste of his own medicine. “Let me guess, you also make your mistresses sign non-disclosure agreements?”

Clueless to her growing fury, he nodded, pointing his finger at her. “I like you. You understand me well. Yes, I insist on an NDA. It makes breakups cleaner.”

For you, perhaps. She reached into her purse and withdrew a document. Shoving it in his direction, she leaned back in her chair and raised her eyebrow. “Like this one?”

He frowned and glanced down at the sheet before his eyes shot to hers. Shock crossed the blue depths before coldness took its place. “What is this?”

“It’s an NDA signed by my mother and Arbuckle Miller. I found it in my stepfather’s papers.”

Miller shoved it back and sipped at his drink. The tick in his jaw was a dead giveaway. He shifted in his chair, agitation in every movement. “This isn’t me. I don’t have any illegitimate children, but even if I did, an NDA exonerates me from any liability.”

“Exonerates you from liability?” She had him on the defensive. Good. He was a despicable human being. “An interesting take, since the document was between my mother and Arbuckle Miller—a very distinctive name.”

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